Flower in the Machine
by Madfizz
Summary: Before the Precursor Legacy, there was the fall of the Acheron siblings. Told through the eyes of Gol.
1. Prologue

_**Prologue**_

"Do something!"

Smoke billowed inside the dark, cramped compartment. Sparks of electricity rippled through the grey like veins under ashen skin. Red lights on the controls flashed sporadically.

The yellow-haired boy, now enveloped in a brilliant white glow, stood tall from where he was crouched moments ago to face the large Precursor robot.

He brought up a hand.

Through the eye of the Precursor head, Gol Acheron could only stare, mute with acceptance, as a pure Light Eco blast came thundering towards him and his sister.

There were no thoughts of what ifs, or feelings of regret. Before his eyes there were no flashes of the life he lived, or images of the very few people he had truly cared for. All that came to him, was one word:

Monster.


	2. Creatures of the Land

_**Creatures of the Land**_

 _7 Years ago…_

Before any sign of first light, and before the warmth of day could sweep over the chill of night: that was the only acceptable time to be out experimenting - at least, that was the case for the Sage of Dark Eco.

Hunched over a pile of kindling and tinder, Gol struck two rocks together. They were icy in his palms, and produced nothing but an irritable clicking noise that echoed throughout the dense woodlands.

He let out a low grumble. How hard was it to start a fire? At first, he wanted it to test out its reaction with Dark Eco, as it was an experiment that he'd been meaning to conduct for quite a while now. But with the cool nip of the early morning air not letting up, the fire would be nice for some much needed warmth. He was exposing more skin to the wind than necessary, as the wide cuffed sleeves of his favourite blue coat were rolled up to his elbows. The thin wraps on his feet did little to help either.

After a few painful minutes, a tiny spark flashed, and a speck of orange grew before Gol's blue eyes. Soft crackles started up as he fanned, and soon enough, a small fire flickered. Gol let out a sigh and rubbed his numb hands close to the flames. Once he'd regained feeling in them, one hand went fishing into a pouch on his leather kidney belt. He gently pulled out a small metal tube. Inside, he could feel a tiny cluster of Dark Eco pulsating. It was taken from the last of his supply of Dark Eco - the result of months and months of searching. It took a great deal of effort to convince himself that sparing some for this experiment would be worth it - no matter the result.

With the lid removed, Gol edged closer to the pit, tipping the tube ever so slightly. Violet sparks jumped out, and an almost gaseous sphere - no larger than a bead - dripped off the rim and fell into the flames.

At once the small fire snapped to a deep purple, and began hissing like a jungle snake. Gol took a few steps back, pocketing the tube of Eco, and watched as the fire shrank rapidly. It seemed as if it was going to vanish completely when a flash of white light seared his eyes. The air soared in temperature. Through the white blobs plaguing his vision, he could see the pit begin to belch. Flames then leapt in all directions, spitting out a shower of black and purple sparks.

Gol stumbled backwards to the ground. He threw his arms around his head and rolled onto his chest in an effort to shield his face from the onslaught. Sizzling and popping sounds rang in his ears. The sweat that trickled out of every pore in his body soothed the little nips the sparks took at his exposed skin.

The hiss of the fire quietened down, and he snuck a glance from underneath his arm. Purple embers gently floated around like snow. The pit itself was reduced to nothing but a black, smouldering pile of ash. A couple of the trees nearest also bore a stray patch or two of singed bark. Gol pulled himself to his feet. To anyone else, the scene would have been an alarming sight. But to him, his first reaction was to let out a delighted laugh.

So that's what happens when fire and Dark Eco react together.

xxx

Some time had passed before Gol came to a clearing. He found himself on a bluff overlooking a small valley, shaped eons ago by the river that ran straight through the middle. Its river banks were peppered with numerous wooden huts that had smoke trickling from a few of the chimneys. It meant that the villagers were already up and about, getting ready to fall into their daily routines.

This little slice of civilization was Steephead Village: his home.

His eyes drifted away from the huts to the opposite cliff-face, just before where the valley flattened out into a wide plain. There, he could see his and Maia's hut, nestled within a shallow cave a few feet up. Just to the right of it was a teleport gate, giving the cave's interior a slight blue glow. The hut was the only one imbedded in the cliff, and a narrow snaking path was the only way up to it. No smoke came from the chimney that stuck out at an angle away from the wall of rock, meaning that Maia was already awake and absent.

Of course she was.

Gol's gaze floated over to the plains. In the distance, an ancient Precursor citadel loomed, dwarfing even the mountain range that was behind it. Its metallic shine from the sun, which was just breaking over the horizon, was almost blinding. That was where Maia was most likely headed. When they first moved to this village a year ago, they explored the outside of the citadel together, seeing no visible entrance. Undeterred, Maia continued her search alone. Most days she'd leave at sunrise, and come back just after sunset, when activity in the village had died down considerably. He wasn't a fool. The timing was by design.

Gol found the set of stairs that led down to the village. They were carved steeply and narrowly into the side of the cliff-face, so care had to be taken while climbing them. The sun was now just barely over the summit opposite, so he slowed his descent further and held up a hand to shield his watering eyes from the early morning rays. It definitely wasn't the best time to be coming down these steps.

A few wary glances were cast in Gol's direction as he made his way through the village. The experience was nothing new, and as usual, no one said a word to him. However, he did hear a few audible gasps. That was new.

He kept his head low, weaving between huts and keeping a brisk pace. It had become a habit to lose himself in his thoughts and ignore their stares. But as he did, he caught a glimpse of his soot-covered hands and sleeves.

Ah. His frazzled and dirty appearance. Perhaps he should have returned sooner when no one was awake, or at the very least, found a stream to clean himself up.

Blood rushed to his cheeks as his thoughts ran off without him. Just imagine what the people who saw him were thinking. By midday, he was sure that there'd be whispers of the Acherons emerging from their secret cave in the forest, where they hid away cooking up little –

A sigh escaped his lips. He was beginning to sound like Maia.

Gol finally reached the rocky pathway that led up to his home. But the welcoming sight was disrupted by a thin young man that stood at the entrance to the hut, armed with nothing but a wooden cane. Gol's eyes instinctively travelled down from the cane to the man's right leg. It was covered in thick bandages and sported a tourniquet just below the knee.

Sunken eyes looked up as Gol approached.

"Gol Acheron?"

Gol nodded, now holding his gaze.

"I need your help."

"Please, come inside," Gol said, gesturing to the doorway. There was no point in asking for a name - they never gave it, no matter how politely he'd ask.

Hesitantly, the man edged into the hut, eyes darting everywhere - as if something would spring out and grab him. Gol restrained from rolling his eyes as he followed him in. Without fail, every single person who set foot in his home did something similar. What were they expecting, exactly? Torture devices, cages, and chains? The main room was the place where he conducted some of his research and consultations, and the only things it was furnished with was a bookshelf, a table and two chairs, and workbenches covered in metal scraps, drawings of Precursor structures, tools, papers, and vials. Empty metal canisters, that had once been their limited supply of Dark Eco, were also stacked against the wall near a door. This door led to a secondary, smaller room that served as their private quarters. Maia had insisted on doors for both rooms, but Gol would only relent to having a door to their living space. If these people were to trust them, and wanted to seek their help, an open doorway was always a welcome sight. On top of that, no secrets were ever kept in a room without a door.

So what else did he have to do to ease their wariness?

Gol took a seat at his workbench, and nodded towards the chair closest to the entrance.

"Take a seat."

The man took forever to sit on the chair he was directed to. When he was comfortable enough, he bent down to grab the loose end of the bandage just before his knee. Slowly, he unravelled it layer by layer, going down the leg and revealing milky white skin. Blackened veins bulged out, creating a webbed pattern around his calf. Finally, he got down to the ankle, but winced and stopped.

The anticipation was killing Gol. He couldn't remember if he'd taken a breath or not since the first of the bandage peeled away.

The man steeled himself, and continued. The bandage's colour quickly changed from white to crimson, and yet, he showed no signs of stopping. How small was this man's foot?

Gol shot up from his chair when the top of the man's foot finally appeared - or what was left of it. The last of the bandages fell to the floor, and all that could be distinguished were bits of gooey black flesh and charred bone.

"Dark Eco did this?" were the first words that spilled out of Gol's mouth.

He received an incredulous look from the man - like Gol had sprouted a second head.

Quickly recomposing himself, Gol dragged his own chair toward the man and gave it a pat. "Place your foot up here."

As the man did what he was told, Gol hurried back over to his workbench and grabbed a magnifying glass. He didn't need it to examine the skin that was still intact above his ankle. It was obviously an extreme case of Dark Eco poisoning, caused only when the body hadn't absorbed it correctly. Luckily, it had been halted by the tourniquet before it could creep further up his body and worm its way into his heart…

"Do you have Green Eco to treat the infection above your foot?"

The man grunted in affirmation.

Gol made his way back, and crouched to examine the foot itself. An acidic odour filled his nostrils.

"Fascinating," Gol remarked. Exposure to a Dark Eco cluster couldn't possibly have done this. He let his hand glide over the injury to check for any residual Eco, but felt nothing.

"Fascinating? It looks like burnt Yakkow meat!" the man cried, gesturing wildly to his foot.

"My apologies," Gol said with a tilt of his head. Where should he start? There were so many questions to ask. "What did the Dark Eco look like?"

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"I only ask because the Eco has eaten all the way down to the bone. A rather… unusual reaction, for coming into contact with a small Eco cluster."

In all honesty, he had never seen such damage by Dark Eco before in his life – and he thought himself well accustomed to most of its varying effects. The slight discolouration of his skin and scar count on his arms were a testament to that.

"It was liquid - like a puddle. I had no idea what it was until I pulled out my foot! There were a whole bunch of these puddles, too. "

"Really?" Gol looked up at him. Condensed liquid forming at the surface? Now the man himself was starting to get interesting. "Where was this?"

"Misty Island."

Gol pursed his lips together. That was an island far down south if he recalled correctly.

"Well? Can you fix my foot? That's what I came here for, after all," the man said irritably, snapping the Dark Sage out of his thoughts.

Gol struggled to stop his eyebrows from shooting up to his receding hairline. "There's nothing really that I can do for you," he admitted with a sigh. "Perhaps you should seek the Green Sage's help."

"He directed me to you!" What was left of the man's foot slid off the chair and entangled itself amongst the bloody bandages.

So, the damage was irreparable. Perhaps he needed to pay Samos a visit. His village was also near Misty Island from what he could remember…

"I'm sorry," Gol finally said. He meant it, too. The man was young, and his movements had been reduced to nothing but a hobble – a hobble that was meant for men much older than him. But Gol's sympathies didn't matter to the man. It never mattered to anyone what he thought after his usefulness had expired.

The chair groaned on the floorboards. The man stood up and stormed – or angrily hobbled – out of the hut. The bandages clung to his blackened flesh and trailed behind him. He yelled all sorts of profanities at the top of his lungs - some directed at the sky, and some directed at Gol, before vanishing through the teleport gate.

Gol massaged the bridge of his nose, placing the magnifying glass back on top of the workbench.

Sadly, this wasn't the worst consultation he'd had.

xxx

The sun was well on its way to returning back to the horizon when the floorboards near the hut's entrance creaked. Gol spun around on his chair. Maia would be overjoyed to hear about his discovery of Misty Island's supposed concentrated liquid Eco deposits. But it wasn't his sister that stood in the doorway. It was a boy that Gol figured was no older than 10. His mop of brown hair and tattered clothes that could be swum in were at odds with his soft, but grubby face. His purple eyes briefly met the bookshelf at the far side of the room, before hovering over Gol.

"Hello, little one. Can I help you?"

The scruffy boy said nothing, and cast a wary glance over his shoulder, back out to the village.

"Are you lost?" Gol asked, rising from his chair and inching his way over.

The boy blinked, and took a few hasty steps back. His hands folded into one another as he did.

Gol would have let the boy backpedal out the door, but a blotchy discolouration on his thin wrist caught the Sage's eye. Against sun-kissed skin it stood out as red-raw. It didn't appear to be a Dark Eco burn, and no one else was at the doorway to indicate that this was a consultation.

"Wait." Gol pointed to his wrist. "Is that sore? Did you want me to fix it?" Perhaps he had some spare Green Eco lying around somewhere.

The boy's eyes immediately fell to his feet, and his hands slinked into his oversized sleeves.

Gol stroked his goatee. Maybe it was better to ease the boy's nerves, and then try asking again. But how would he achieve that? By entertaining him? He had no doubt that the room would be quite boring to a child.

The boy resumed his slow retreat, eyes fluttering over the bookshelf one last time before disappearing out the door.

And that's when it hit him.

"Wait! Did you want to explore?"

Miraculously, the boy's head popped back in.

"Well, go on then," Gol continued, gesturing back towards the bookshelf. "I saw you looking at it."

The boy held his gaze, unsure.

"Go pick a book," Gol prompted with a smile.

The boy gradually made his way over to the bookshelf, throwing glances at Gol as he did. And each time, Gol would nod eagerly. When the boy finally reached the bookshelf, he glossed over each spine thoughtfully. Keeping his distance, Gol tried to study the boy, making sure that there weren't any other marks. Was it a bruise? An infection?

Satisfied in finding no other markings, Gol allowed his gaze to drift to the bookshelf. He and Maia had accumulated a wealth of knowledge over the years, and they considered the bookshelf to be their prized possession. It had everything: books on language, experimentation, Eco, and Precursor history, to name a few. There were even a couple that he and Maia had authored.

The boy's fingers paused at one book, and snaked upwards to grip the top of it. He then turned his attention back to Gol. From the way his eyes shone, it was as if he was silently asking for permission.

Gol gave a nod, and the boy spun back around to pry the book from its home. Flipping page after page, his brows gradually furrowed and the bridge of his nose pinched. Mistaking this expression as a sign of concentration, Gol's smile returned.

"If you enjoy exploring, then books are the perfect way to do so without ever leaving the comfort of your own home."

It appeared that Gol's words had gone in one ear and out the other. With a pout, the boy snapped the book shut, startling Gol. He then placed it back where it belonged.

Gol spotted the title of the replaced book, _Geology and Landforms_ , and realisation dawned on him.

"Ah, perhaps you're looking for a different kind of book?"

The boy looked up at him with a puzzled expression. Gol took this as his chance to come closer. He stopped next to the boy, and searched the bookshelf for something appropriate. When he found a potential candidate, Gol reached up on his tip-toes to pull out a book that looked as if it were about to crumble to dust.

"You're looking for stories where heroes go on an adventure and have a happy ending, aren't you?"

The boy merely blinked in response.

"Unfortunately, you won't find books like that here. No happy endings - just the pursuit of knowledge. But, I think you'll like this one." Gol knelt down to be eye-level with the boy. "This was my favourite when I was your age."

The boy's hands inched out, and Gol gave the book over. The title, _Creatures of the Land_ , caused the boy's eyes to light up, and he hastily flipped open the cover to read the first page.

"With all the sketches, I think you'll find it rather enjoyable," said Gol.

For a moment, all was silent. The boy turned page after page, each picture more captivating to him than the last. As he did this, Gol examined the discolouration on the boy's skin closely. It was definitely a bruise. Was that why he was a bit jumpy? Had someone -

The boy suddenly recoiled, almost dropping the book. Gol had thought he'd startled the boy somehow until he spotted the sketches. A dozen or so filled up the two pages. Eyes were the first thing he was drawn to, and he couldn't tear his own away from them. From fish, to snakes, to hulking beasts with unkempt fur, 'Lurkers' was the aptly-named title at the top of the page. Not surprisingly, little to no description was provided for each creature.

"It's okay," Gol said, bending down to hold the book steady in the boy's arms. "They're only drawings."

The boy's watery eyes stayed locked onto Gol's.

"They're like the monsters in the books you read, aren't they? The ones who hurt people?"

The boy nodded hastily.

"You have nothing to worry about. That's where the monsters will stay." Gol took the book from him and closed it. "On the pages of books."

The boy reached out for the book with a whimper as Gol went to place it back on the shelf. Hearing this, he stopped and looked at the boy with an eyebrow raised.

"You want to keep reading?"

He received a firm nod.

"Well… Would you like me to read to you instead?" Gol asked, kneeling down.

Another nod.

Opening it again, Gol flipped to a different section of the book - one that wasn't so frightening. Perhaps the section of different birds would keep the boy's spirits up.

In a voice as entertaining as he could muster, Gol began to read aloud, making his own comments and observations as he went. All the while, the boy hung on every word the Dark Sage spoke.

"Ah, and finally… Seagulls. I'm sure you know what they are… A nuisance, for one."

The boy gave him a quizzical look.

"If you're not careful, they can steal your food," Gol elaborated, waggling a finger.

That comment was rewarded with something between a snort and a giggle.

Gol feigned offence. "You'll laugh now, but when a gull swoops down to take your food..."

Poorly imitating a gull's squawk, he snapped the book shut. The boy squealed with laughter, and Gol smiled.

When the boy finally quietened down, Gol handed the book over. Before he could open his mouth to speak, the boy was already sliding it back onto the shelf. Gol quickly jumped in to stop him, making sure that the book was back in the boy's hands. "It's yours now. Just promise me that you'll stay away from the monster section."

The pure joy on the boy's face made Gol feel as if he'd been sucked into the past - like he was watching a younger version of himself receive that very same book. And for one precious moment, all the worries of the world fell away from him.

The boy opened his mouth to reply, but the voice Gol heard could not have originated from him, as it was deep and gravelly.

"Hazen!"

Gol jumped to his feet. A rough, older-looking man with quite a large sack slung over his back stood at the doorway. His eyes turned to slits as he promptly dumped his sack. Gol's lean build was dwarfed by the man's stockiness, and he came charging like an angry Yakkow.

"Ah, you must be his father," said Gol, extending a wobbly hand.

"What've ya done to him?" The man bypassed the handshake and thrust a hairy hand at Gol's chest.

The shove sent Gol reeling.

"He do anythin' to ya?" the man asked, towering over Hazen. Strangely, he sounded more accusing than concerned.

"I - I beg your pardon?" Gol stuttered, regaining his footing and maintaining his newly gained distance.

Hazen, who stood as still as a statue, clung to his new book for dear life as the man knelt down in front of him. He roughly pulled Hazen this way and that, checking him over.

"He's perfectly fine," Gol managed despite his mouth becoming quite dry. "He just -"

The man was suddenly inches away from Gol. The smell of rotten eggs radiated from his breath as he spoke. "Stay right away from my son. Ya hear?"

"I -"

"I won't have him be turned into a freak o' nature by some evil Sage!"

Gol blinked.

Did these people honestly think that he'd do that? And to a child, no less..?

The man's ferocity was now directed at his son. "We're goin'. We got a long trek ahead've us, boy."

And with that, the man snatched his wincing son by his wrist - his bruised wrist. As he dragged Hazen out of the hut and picked up the heavy sack, the book dislodged, and hit the floor with a loud thunk. Hazen looked back at it, then at Gol's frozen form, before vanishing through the doorway.

Once he'd regained his composure, Gol went over to pick it up, and dusted off the peeling cover. While he did, he peered out the doorway. The man passed Hazen a small rucksack filled to the brim and whispered viciously into his ear. They then took off, with Hazen struggling to keep up, and picked their way down the rocky pathway to the village.

Looking back down at the forgotten book, Gol felt a twinge in his chest.

That poor boy… He didn't even have a chance to tend to that bruise.

Increasingly aware of the few villagers that were now staring up at the hut, Gol slunk back into the depths of the room. This time, he couldn't stop himself from imagining the new rumour that would most certainly be running rife through the village by the time darkness had fallen:

That the Dark Sage kidnaps and experiments on children.

* * *

 **A/N:** Hey everyone, thank you so much for reading! Hope you've all enjoyed it - I'd love to hear your thoughts. :)


	3. The Chain

_**The Chain**_

The waters of Sandover Village's fountain were as still as glass. Even the seaside breeze couldn't rupture it. That was how Gol was able to examine the pale face that stared back out at him.

As he leaned over the bowl to get a closer look, his blond hair fell over his left shoulder. It was kept in a low tie, and dangled dangerously close to the water. But Gol hardly noticed, as his own eyes had captivated him. They were definitely a deeper blue the last time he'd examined them properly.

"Ah, Gol!" a voice called from somewhere high above. Gol straightened up to see Samos Hagai descending from the top of his hut. It never ceased to amaze Gol how he could keep his balance with a log on top of his head. Somehow, his greying hair kept it securely in place.

"Samos," Gol greeted with a wave.

The Green Sage landed beside him. "I apologise for my absence. I hope I haven't kept you waiting too long."

"Not at all," Gol said. As soon as he'd emerged from Samos' portal, the floorboards rippled underneath him. A faint thud from somewhere below accompanied it. The ruckus was enough to wake the rather docile plant-creature that he and Samos had created by combining their respective Ecos. He'd rushed downstairs to see Samos' young daughter, Kira, covered from head to toe in a fine black powder, and pulling apart a machine with unusual dexterity for a child. She happily informed him about the Sage's excursion to Volcanic Crater, and promptly went back to dismantling. Gol hovered nearby for a while, ready to step in to prevent another explosion of soot, or, Precursors forbid, something worse. But thankfully, Kira had quickly grown bored of the machine, and disappeared into her room. Bored himself, Gol then decided to wander down to the rounded huts that made up the village. He only got as far as the fountain before remembering the looks people in Steephead Village would give him. Did his reputation proceed him? He opted not to find out.

Gol smiled. "It's good to see you again. How are things?"

"I can't complain. All is well - something I'm still not quite used to," Samos replied with a hearty chuckle. "I trust everything's dandy on your end?"

It was a staple reply of his. Teasing, almost. Perhaps one day Samos will tell of his 'troubled' past.

Gol shrugged. "More or less."

"Good, good. Did that fellow with the 'crispy' foot come to see you?"

"He did. That's why I'm here."

"And I gather it didn't go well?"

Gol shook his head. Samos beckoned for him to follow, and started to float back up the wooden bridge. It gave a creak of protest when Gol put his weight on it.

"I thought you might have wanted to see the damage before I sent Crispy Foot on his way. He kept yammering on about me being a 'terrible Sage' when I gave him the bad news," Samos explained, grounding himself on the rock pillar between his hut and the mainland. "It's not my fault he stuck his foot in Dark Eco!" He muttered something under his breath, then gave Gol an apologetic smile. "I just hope he wasn't more trouble than what he was worth."

The palm tree that stood nearby began to rock violently. The tail of Gol's coat followed its rhythm eagerly. It was then that he noticed his companion's attire. How could Samos wear so little when living by the sea called for anything but?

"I don't think it's possible to be a fully-fledged Sage until an 'all-knowing' villager questions your abilities." That earned him a bark of laughter from Samos, but Gol found himself inwardly cringing. It was a remark more suited to come from Maia's mouth. "But yes, the man proved to be very resourceful indeed. Do you know what he told me? The Dark Eco he stepped in was liquid. Pure concentrated liquid - and at the surface of all places!"

Gol cast his gaze out to the object of his desire: A veil of mist that took up most of the horizon. The infamous island certainly lived up to its name.

"So I've heard," Samos said quietly. There was a strange look behind those spectacles that normally made his green eyes look comically huge.

"Samos? What's the matter?"

A sigh escaped from the Green Sage's lips. "I think you should forget about all of this."

"What do you mean? Is Misty Island truly that dangerous?"

"From what I've heard… but that's not why."

Something twisted deep in Gol's stomach, but he ignored it. Surely there was a good explanation for his comment?

"I sent that young man to you for a reason. I knew there was nothing you could do for him," Samos said.

"You sent him to inform me of the Dark Eco?"

"I sent him to warn you about it."

Gol took a step back from Samos. "Why?"

"Because I know you and Maia have been channelling Dark Eco."

He should have recognised that strange look Samos gave - the one he was so accustomed to receiving back at home. How could he have known though that it was one of wariness? It was so unfamiliar on his friend's face.

"How do you know that?" Was it his appearance? Was the change that noticeable?

"I spoke with Maia about it," Samos replied.

Gol furrowed his brows. "When was this?"

"Oh… a little while ago now."

A little while ago? That was something his sister had failed to mention to him…

Samos shook his head. "We're getting off track here. Gol, you should know as well as I that Dark Eco, at its core, is dangerous. It simply can't be controlled. You need to stop channelling it before something goes terribly wrong."

Gol blinked. How could he say such a reductive thing? He'd have thought that as a fellow Sage and friend, Samos would be supportive of such a ground-breaking experiment! And again, just like the previous day with that young boy and his unpleasant father, he found himself without words. There was no raging fire within to draw fuel from. There was only a cold bitterness that washed over him, and seized his tongue.

"I… I understand," Gol managed.

Samos nodded, and an uneasy silence settled over them. It was accompanied by the waves crashing into the rocks below. Gol unclasped his shaky hands from behind his back and tucked them deeply into opposite sleeves. Everything felt surreal - like he wasn't in his own body anymore. It was as if he was tethered and floating above, looking down at himself and Samos.

And he so desperately wanted to float away.

"By the way, where is Maia?" Samos finally said, battling to be heard over a particularly thunderous clap of water.

Gol stared straight ahead. "She'll be here shortly."

"Is she still searching for more Precursor metal to smith?"

Their talk must have been recent, as she'd only taken up smithing a little while ago.

"Yes," Gol said.

"I can see she's improving in the craft. Your knee guards - they're quite the thing! I'll have to ask her to make me a pair."

Gol looked down at his pants. Maia had carefully shaped out the ovals from melted Precursor scrap, and attached them to some cloth so he could tie them around his knees. It was a gift: the first proper thing she had created that she was completely satisfied with. It was something he cherished dearly.

All that Gol could muster was a small smile. As he continued to stare out at the eerie blanket of mist, he could feel Samos' scrutinising gaze on him. Did Samos forget what he was the Sage of? There was still so much to learn about Dark Eco, and it seemed as if he was the only one willing to uncover its secrets.

He couldn't give up now.

Gol licked his lips, tasting salt. "So how would one go about travelling to Misty Island?"

Samos exhaled deeply from his nostrils.

"I assure you," Gol continued, steadying his voice, "if I obtain the concentrated Eco, it won't be misused."

After what felt like eons, Samos tapped the end of his staff on the ground. "I'm sure the village's fisherman can lend you his boat." His staff went swinging towards one of the huts that lined the cliffs. Gol leapt back to avoid its path. "He lives in that one over there."

"Thank you. I should be going now. Preparations will have to be made as soon as possible."

It wasn't that urgent, as Maia wouldn't be here until later. He just wanted to put as much distance between him and that wary look Gol figured would now be permanently affixed to Samos' face during every subsequent meeting. Perhaps with time and demonstration, he could change the Sage's mind about Dark Eco channelling…

…just as he had to win the villagers over with him being a Sage of Dark Eco.

"I trust you'll do the right thing, Gol - for your sake and for Maia's."

It took all of Gol's willpower to nod. He turned on his heel, and made off to the hut pointed out.

"And just be careful, for Precursor's sake! I've heard that island is nothing but trouble!" he heard Samos call over the waves.

No amount of trouble would ever deter him from getting his hands on that concentrated Dark Eco. They could handle themselves.

xxx

"Who would have thought that one of those pathetic villagers finally had something useful to say?" Maia mused.

She was lounged at the front of the boat, legs crossed and propped over the gunwale. Her welder's goggles that rested on her forehead did nothing to stop her blonde hair whipping wildly over her face. Behind her, the wall of mist over the violent waters grew larger and larger.

Gol gave her a sidelong glance.

Maia smirked. "And yet, you're even more sulky than usual."

Now she had his full, piercing gaze.

"Don't give me that look," Maia said, threading a hand through her billowing hair so he could see her eyes roll. "It's true. You've hardly said a word since I arrived. So what's the matter? I thought you'd be pleased at the very least."

Gol blinked, taken aback by her bluntness. "I am. But…"

Maia drew her boots back into the boat and leaned in close. "But what?"

A pang hit his stomach. He couldn't even spit out Samos' name, let alone confront her about her secret meeting with him.

He sighed. "But nothing."

Maia eyed him for a moment, then shrugged. She returned to her previous position, letting her gaze drift skyward.

The two fell silent, and all that could be heard was the steady groan of the wind turbine and the slap of rough water against the hull. With nothing better to do, he opted to look back towards the mainland, and watched as it grew more and more distant. Before long, Samos' hut became nothing more than a hazy blob as the mist eventually swallowed them whole.

The air went crisp and hit them hard. Through the grey veil, Gol spotted Maia shivering.

"Would you like my coat, dear sister?"

The top-half of her attire was a thin white blouse and a waistcoat that was bound together at the front by lace, exposing her midriff. A red scarf was also tied around her neck, but was too short to cover the part of her chest that was exposed. Like him, she was pale, as if she'd hardly seen the light of day. Most people believed it too, given their reclusive behaviour. But that wasn't quite true, and they both never corrected anyone who assumed so.

She let out a snort, and his concern dissipated like the sea spray that was launched in the air around them.

"At least that hasn't changed."

"What hasn't?" Gol asked, watching with narrowed eyes as she lazily rolled her head to him.

"That you're slowly starting to sound like an elder, as well as looking like one."

How was that in any way related to offering his coat? Her attempts at teasing him were becoming more and more desperate lately.

"We're the same age."

"Sometimes I wonder," she drawled with a sly grin.

It took all of his effort not to grit his teeth. The only thing that could possibly make his day worse was if the injured man was lying about the Dark Eco on the island.

xxx

Great care had to be taken whilst navigating into the bay. With the blanket of mist still in full force, stray jagged rocks that peppered the surrounding waters could end their expedition in a heartbeat. As they came closer, aiming to moor on the far edge of the bay, the mist thinned out, and the island finally revealed itself. Dead trees and skeletons of behemoth-like creatures crowned its rocky landscape. Not even a patch of green could be seen amongst the monotonous grey. An unnatural silence also hung in the air, and the smell - a mix between rotting flesh and faeces - wafted out to greet them. It was enough to send Gol's gag reflex into a frenzy.

It was difficult not to imagine that this was where things eventually went to die.

Gol was the first off the boat, and his eyes immediately caught a colour other than grey on the nearby ground. His breath hitched. A handful of shallow craters dribbled down to the water's edge, and were all filled to the brim with what appeared to be a purple substance.

Concentrated Dark Eco. It was real.

In all his life, Gol had never seen it in this form, only in small floating Eco clusters. He theorised that the more concentrated forms of it were buried deep underground. So how was it that it was here at the surface in such an odd fashion? If they'd moored any closer, it would have been entirely likely for one of them to accidentally step in a puddle upon disembarking.

Maia joined his side, shaking him out of his thoughts.

"Isn't it beautiful?" Gol murmured, kneeling down to get a closer look at the puddle. Its surface was streaked with glossy purples, violets, and blacks, and almost appeared to be alive and breathing, spitting out the occasional wisp. If the puddle held a reflection, it would have projected back the two siblings' awe-struck expressions.

"It certainly is," agreed Maia.

She crouched down and dipped her hand low enough that her fingers almost grazed the frenzied surface. Five blobs promptly lifted up and began to seep into her fingertips.

Gol's mouth parted slightly. So it can still be channelled in its liquid form. He studied Maia's face as she continued to absorb it. She didn't seem bothered by it in the slightest.

Thoughts of Samos - long forgotten ever since Gol laid eyes upon the Eco - stirred up again. What did that old fool know, anyway?

Rolling up his sleeves, Gol let his fingertips glide just above the purple surface. While absorbing Dark Eco clusters and handling Dark Eco in general, extreme caution had to be exercised. Burning was the most common outcome - one that he was certainly no stranger to. He didn't need to imagine how much worse it would be in its liquid form; he already had an example served up to him by Samos.

Small ripples followed Gol's hand. The ends of his fingers tingled with anticipation. However, not a single drop lurched up to be absorbed. Steadying his hand, he closed his eyes and forced the world around him into a silence. It was fortunate that the island was so lifeless. With the amount of concentration he needed for the task, something as insignificant as a chirping bird would most likely throw him off completely.

Finally, a deep chill crept through his fingers and pooled in his palm. A faint prickle followed all the way up his arm and hit his chest. Startled by this, he opened his eyes. The feeling was tenfold stronger than what he was used to.

While Maia removed her hands from the pool and stood, Gol remained, taking as much as he possibly could. Unlike her, as soon as he had absorbed Eco, it would gradually leave his body where it had entered - as if he were actively rejecting it.

Maia flicked her wrist, and a sprout of Dark Eco twirled from her fingertips, fading into a purple mist. Already feeling the icy sensation in his palm start to slowly recede back to his fingertips, Gol stood and did the same, except he produced only a miniscule puff.

Maia threw her head back as she cackled. "Don't worry, brother. You'll get it eventually."

Gol turned his back to her, grounding his teeth. She knew very well that his ability to channel Eco was a sore spot, and yet she still teased.

"Help me prepare the canisters," he finally said. "We should also see if there are any more puddles like these."

When Maia didn't reply, Gol whirled around to see her staring off at the cliff across the bay. He stormed over to her. "Did you hear a word of what I said?"

"That's Precursor metal!" she exclaimed.

Gol blinked at her. "What?"

He followed her gaze, and examined the cliff through the thinning mist. Sure enough, there was a distinct metallic shine to it the further up it went.

"There's a Precursor structure here," Maia said, now looking at Gol with wide eyes. "Let's go around to see it!"

"Perhaps later on. We have work to do first," he said, and started off to the boat.

"Oh, come now. The Eco isn't going anywhere."

"Neither is the Precursor Structure."

Maia gave a snort. Gol looked back around in time to see her throw a wave over her shoulder as she strode off. She weaved between the puddles of Eco, which continued up further, becoming smaller and shallower as the path narrowed and sharply bent off behind a wall of uneven rock.

With or without him, he realised with annoyance, she was going to explore it.

He glanced back at the boat, which rocked against its mooring. The empty canisters clanged together in harmony with the waves. He couldn't collect all the Eco by himself. It was a two person job at the very least.

"Wait for me," he called with a groan, and gave the canisters one last look before setting off.

When he reached Maia, she scoffed. "Where's this 'danger' Samos spoke of?"

They had passed the last little puddle of Dark Eco. From here onwards, there were no more to be seen.

"He probably meant the Eco," Gol replied with a sigh. Briefly, he thought of bringing up her talk with Samos again. Perhaps there was a good reason for her choosing not to tell him?

As they reached the sharp bend, Gol couldn't help but feel uneasy - as if eyes were on him. It was a feeling akin to when he would walk through his own village. Naturally, he dismissed it, and it wasn't long before another feeling took its place: the faintest of pulls. Every inch of his body wanted to stay locked onto the path that led to the Precursor structure.

They eventually came to a gigantic ribcage that was lodged in-between a passage that tapered out. A foul odour crept up Gol's nostrils. The path had ended, and was filled with mud.

"Urgh. Is there another way around?" Gol said, pinching the end of his nose and scrunching his face.

Maia had already slipped down into it. Much to Gol's disgust, the mud stopped at her chest. Why did it have to be so deep?

"Don't be such a child," she snapped, and began to wade through the passage.

"A child would love this," Gol mumbled to himself.

Slowly, he lowered himself into the brown sludge. He then trudged on in her wake, dry-heaving with each squelch and slosh. After a few agonising moments, something moved out of the corner of his eye. He turned. Did the filthy surface just stir? He chalked it up to being a stray rock falling in from somewhere high above.

The pit ended where the belly of the gigantic creature would have been. The rest of the ribcage was firmly lodged into the ground, tunnelling Gol and Maia out into a small clearing that had yet another, albeit smaller, mud pit. Luckily, this one had a stepping-stone that they used to cross, bringing them to a larger clearing. To their left was a drop to a watery grave. To their right, a wall of Precursor metal, with a couple of large steps leading up to a concentric feature that Gol assumed to be a door. Two pillars on either side of it sent beams of yellow light skyward, slicing through the grey.

That slight pulling sensation that overcame Gol had gradually morphed into what he could only describe as a chain wrapped around his torso, dragging him with unrelenting force.

"Do you feel that?" Gol asked.

Maia nodded absently. She then walked over to the stairs, peering at its inscription. "Life."

"Only 'life'?" Gol looked incredulous. The whole staircase was covered in symbols. Upon closer inspection however, he realised it really was just 'life', but repeated over and over again.

Maia climbed up the stairs, and Gol followed close behind. When the door didn't open at her approach, Maia let out a groan. She placed her hand at the centre, then ran her fingers over the spiral grooves.

"I finally come across a Precursor door, and it's locked," she muttered. "It may need some Blue Eco to open."

She was the expert on all things Precursor, not him. So where on this dull rock would they find Blue Eco?

Deep, throaty grunts emanated from behind, making Gol's hairs stand on end. The two siblings twisted around to see a couple of hulking creatures slink towards the staircase. They were covered in shaggy purple fur, and wore nothing but a white loincloth. Their hands and feet were gigantic compared to their limbs, and the hunch of their back made it seem as if their heads had sprouted out from the centre of their chests. A broad, bone-like jaw with spurs topped off the unnerving sight, and their beady black eyes swum in an ocean of sickly yellow.

"What are those _things_?" Maia breathed, taking a step back.

"Lurkers," Gol whispered back. Babaks to be more specific, but that wasn't important right now. What was though, was where in Precursor's name had they come from? From what he saw, the island was practically deserted.

Maia blinked in disbelief. "They're Lurkers?"

Gol nodded. This was the first time he had laid eyes upon a Babak outside of books and sketches. The Lurkers they normally encountered were the more common snakes, crabs, and fish. Were these ones as aggressive as their smaller counterparts? Were they capable of understanding the native tongue?

"We don't want any trouble. We'll leave," Gol tried, raising his hands in a calming gesture.

One of them let out a snarl, and another Lurker shimmied down from the behemoth's ribcage. This one had a dark blue coat of fur, and was clad in bone armour. It began to saunter over to the small gathering in front of the steps.

Gol's eyes immediately locked on to the bone club that rested over its shoulder.

If they could get the Precursor door open, then maybe -

Maia took a sharp breath. Abruptly, her arm shot out. A small ball of Dark Eco burst from her palm, letting off a sound that mimicked sheets ripping in two. One of the purple Lurkers cried out. The force of the blast was enough to send it tumbling backwards and straight over the cliff.

Maia paused for a moment, examining her palm with awe. "We can take them," she said, clenching her fist to produce another ball of Eco.

"But I -"

The other two Lurkers went into a frenzy. Teeth like razor-sharp cones were now bared. The one that wielded the club began to spin it wildly around its head, slicing the air with a whir. They started towards the twins.

Maia descended the staircase, sending the bone-clad Lurker over the cliff with a well-placed Eco ball to the face. Gol, however, found himself rooted to the ancient metal beneath him. He brought up a hand, and willed a ball of Eco to appear. All he could manage was a puff of purple. Much to his amazement, from within it, a tiny spark crackled. He fought to keep it alive. It was a start at least. Just a little more, he told himself, and maybe he would have something workable. But at that moment, a Lurker had dropped down in front of him. An otherworldly echo greeted Gol as his back hit the Precursor door. The puff of Eco vanished. He could do nothing now but stare at the monster's pulsating black pupils - the eyes of starvation.

The depictions in books didn't hold a candle to the real thing. Did Lurkers normally petrify their prey? Make them an easy meal? For some bizarre reason, Gol tried to recall whether or not he had read that somewhere.

The Lurker's lips pulled back so far that Gol could see black rot on its teeth and gums. Blobs of saliva dripped down its bone-like jaw. It then straightened its back, and a giant mitt swung high in the air. Gol sunk low and tensed, preparing for the first swipe to pierce flesh.

A sharp tearing sound cut through the air.

The Lurker was flung at him - as if the bones in its body had suddenly melted. Its body crushed Gol against the Precursor door for a moment, before tumbling to the ground in a heap. Its back was a deep, bloody gorge. The purple fur that was left was also singed black, and small wisps of smoke trailed upwards. Gol looked up to see Maia catching her breath nearby. How big of an Eco ball did she conjure?

Maia threw her arms up as she approached the stairs. "What are you doing just standing there? Shoot one of them!"

"I'm trying!"

"Try harder!" Maia hissed. She then eyed the large bone structure. "We have more company."

Gol followed her gaze to see two more of the bone-toting Lurkers charging from the mud pit. Another purple-coated one was also scurrying down from the rib cage.

She resumed her assault without a second glance at him.

Gol allowed himself a deep breath. He then descended the stairs to stand abreast with Maia, and tried again to will some Eco into his palms. He could feel the deep chill - although it was only in his fingers now. His arm prickled as well, meaning that there was a bit of Eco still flowing through his body. But what about Maia? Killing his assailant must have cost her greatly. He observed the balls of Eco she hurled at the Lurkers with a grimace: Just as he suspected, they were indeed smaller now. More worryingly though, they lacked the explosive power that her very first strike had, only stalling and driving the Lurkers to a stumble – making them even more unruly.

Gol did a quick scan of the immediate area. Of course there weren't any Eco puddles here.

It took a couple of direct hits for one of the Lurkers to fall, but the other was already upon them. It took a swing at Maia's head. She ducked, missing the club by a hair's breadth. The Lurker quickly closed the gap. Another blurry white arc followed. The club went low, and this time, Maia was too close to dodge. Gol threw himself between the two. The bone connected with his stomach, and sent him sprawling into Maia. Air rushed out of his lungs as he came to an awkward landing on his side.

He took a breath, but the air wouldn't go back in.

His heart pounded in his ears. Just barely, he heard his name being called like an echo.

After a moment, Maia crouched over him. Their attacker laid motionless nearby. Behind her, he spotted the mud pit - their only exit. Bones clunked heavily in the distance, and individual huffs became a chorus. How many more of these creatures were there? Whatever the number, they couldn't stay and fight them off any longer. Surely Maia knew that by now. Gol wanted to voice this to her, but each heave he took made no difference to his current breathless state.

"Boat," he mouthed, pointing a shaky finger to the path. She helped him upright, but his empty lungs forced his body back to a hunched position.

A horrid realisation struck him: Maia couldn't possibly carry him and fend off the Lurkers at the same time… but she'd be able to escape with her life if she left him here.

For the alternative was death having them both.

Again, she tried to pull him up, but this time he shook her off and beckoned with a hand for her to leave.

"Not without you!" Maia exclaimed. She dragged him upright by his coat, slung his arm over her shoulder, and held him tight. His whole body ached in protest.

The unnerving noises grew louder, and came from somewhere behind them. Maia spun around and unleashed a volley of small Dark Eco balls. Gol found himself back on the ground again. He didn't know if she was successful in her attack. All he could do was stare ahead at the clear path to the mud pit. But something stirred within it. Bubbles formed at the surface and popped. The mud peeled back to reveal a pair of yellow eyes.

Gol had only ever seen such a thing in his _Creatures of the Land_ book: The Quicksand Lurker.

Its head followed, and it inhaled deeply. Maia had heard it, and turned too late. A small ball of purple was already rushing toward her. It hit her square in the stomach. She staggered back. Something shifted in her eyes as her head, as if cranked by a lever, lowered so her chin rested on her chest.

All at once, the air rushed back into his lungs. "Maia?"

She dropped to her knees. Lines of agony spread across her face like a plague. Thin streams of blood ran over fingers that clutched at brutalised flesh.

Her attacker let out a cheer, and sunk back into the mud. Then, with a bellow, the Lurker she had been previously dealing with came charging, swinging its weapon wildly above its head.

Gol was too late to intercept. The bone club came crashing into the side of Maia's head.

Blotches of crimson splattered onto the rocky surface.

She slumped to the ground.

"Maia!" Gol cried.

A blow like that could be fatal… and she wasn't moving.

Gol barely recognised his own scream. The pain that plagued his body drained away, replaced only by numbness. His vision tunnelled. At the end of that tunnel wasn't a white light, but the Lurker who was towering over Maia.

The one who'd dared to touch his sister.

He lunged forwards, latching onto its back and grasping fistfuls of grimy hair. The creature roared and dropped its club. It tossed this way and that, trying desperately to reach behind.

Gol had a fist ready to slam into the Lurker's face when something sharp dug into his shoulder blade. He cried out, and was ripped away from the Lurker's back. Another Lurker had come to assist, tossing Gol like he weighed nothing. Colours burst in front of his eyes as he landed, momentarily lighting up the grey sky above him.

He angled his throbbing head to see Maia nearby. Her hands had fallen away from her exposed stomach, revealing a dark bloody hole surrounded by bulging black veins.

She'd been shot with Dark Eco.

Tears welled in his eyes, and his trembling fists balled.

How dare they use his own Eco against him!

Gol was almost up again, already searching frantically for a nearby Lurker to strike out at, when a low growl resonated around the rocky landscape. Or was it the ground rumbling beneath his feet? Devoid of mind and unable to process bodily senses, he couldn't tell. Either way, it sent them all into a complete silence and stillness. His brows creased as the Lurkers parted to form two lines leading towards the Precursor stairs.

They were all much too organised for such savage things.

Sobering up at the peculiar sight, he staggered to his feet and glanced back at Maia. The Lurkers had calmed, leaving him an opening to escape. But was there even a point in that anymore?

 _Not without you._

Tears finally fell freely down his hollow cheeks; its biting chill on par with the feeling of the miniscule amounts of Eco he had left in him.

Gol scoffed. The Eco that he couldn't even utilise when he needed it.

He found himself drifting over to her, needing to see her face one last time before he handed himself over to the beasts, but it was hidden by her dishevelled, bloodied hair.

Her face… Never again would he see that smirk she'd don when she teased him, or that thoughtful frown when she was mulling over a design or reading a book.

Perhaps he would see it again in death.

The acidic smell of the Eco eating through flesh started to hit his nose when he stopped. There was a slight rise and fall of her chest.

His heart skipped a beat.

Did he imagine that?

Gol fell to his knees and crawled the remaining distance to her. Gently, he pushed her hair out of her face and cupped his hand lightly over her nose and mouth. The slightest bit of warmth tickled his palm.

He let out a shaky breath. She was alive!

"Maia?" he whispered, giving her a slight shake. Her head lolled in response.

It didn't matter right now if he couldn't wake her. He could still carry her away from here, and -

A mechanical hiss ripped his attention away from Maia. He looked up in time to see each of the Lurkers' necks straighten and angle towards the Precursor door. The door itself had split into six slices and pulled back, revealing what looked to be an arena. It was a poor angle to view from, and all that could be discerned was a strange green light.

That same resonant sound boomed again. But now, it sounded more like a distant and distorted human voice, and came from within the structure.

"Trespasser."

A humongous Lurker stepped through the doorway - the biggest creature Gol had ever laid eyes on. Its fur was a deeper shade of blue than its smaller counterparts, and it wore a black loin cloth and matching foot wraps. Short curved horns also protruded out of its skull, pointing skyward. But most bizarrely, the beast wore an amulet. Its green stone shined almost as intensely as the strange light inside the structure.

It approached slowly; every footfall it made produced a vibration in the ground so heavy it wracked Gol's bones. Lurkers scrambled back as it passed each of them. Finally, its elongated shadow consumed Gol's frozen form entirely, and it came to a stop.

"Y-You speak? How?" Gol blurted.

Its pinpricks for pupils bored into his. "Gift from Precursors."

"A gift?" To speak?

"You not belong here," it continued, ignoring Gol's bewilderment. "We sense dark, and we meet it when it comes."

As if on cue, each of the Lurkers behind him fanned out, forming a perfect circle around the large beast and the twins.

"I apologise," Gol said, swallowing thickly. "My sister and I weren't aware that the island was inhabited. We didn't mean to startle you all. We were only curious."

"No curious. Dark must never meet Precursors. We make sure."

Gol blinked. What did it mean by that, exactly?

He did a quick scan around him. Their exit was blocked once more, and the Lurkers showed no signs of breaking formation. They had him and Maia surrounded.

"Please, let us go."

After some thought, the leader took a step forwards. "We let you live. Woman did killing. She dies."

His heart plummeted straight down his body and sunk into the ground - as if it were nothing but a stone in the mud.

"No," Gol managed through a dry mouth. "She didn't mean to. She thought we were in danger. She was protecting me, just like you're protecting the Precursor structure!"

It huffed, flexing its claws as it took another step. "Move, or you also die."

Gol bundled Maia's limp form up in his arms. He was keenly aware of the lines of blood making its way down his now exposed backside. With his silence, there'd be more blood to come. A lot more.

A low rumbling sounded. The leader's earth-shattering footfalls started up once more. Fainter ones, in their dozens, followed suit.

If only they hadn't come to this island. If only he'd experimented more with channelling Eco.

If only he was a better Sage.

Their shadows fell on him. He pulled Maia closer to his chest, and buried his face in her hair. Perhaps if he held on tight enough, she would be spared of the oncoming bloodshed.

"I'm sorry, dear sister. I'm so sorry," Gol whispered, and closed his eyes.


	4. Hungry Ghosts

_**Hungry Ghosts**_

The only monsters Gol had ever dealt with were the truly terrible people that went out of their way to make his and his sister's life miserable. The experiences were few and far in-between, but they were there, and stood out as stains across a lonely existence - stains that Maia remembered when conducting herself around others. At first, Gol understood. Once bitten, twice shy. Innocent or not, they were all complicit to some degree – all monsters in her eyes. But now, he wasn't so sure. How could there be monsters in places where the sunlight hit endless valleys of green, birthing life in its wake? Where no blood was shed and no eerie mist, sheltering a dark underbelly, outstayed its welcome? Monsters indeed roamed the world, but they weren't in Steephead Village - or any village for that matter. They were here on Misty Island, seconds away from devouring him and Maia. How could he have led them to such an awful place? He would have given anything to turn back time and stay by the boat… or even remain at home instead. He could picture it now. Their cosy quarters, their functional main room -

An ear-splitting roar assaulted his ears. The Lurkers must finally be upon them. Gol's breath caught. He kept his eyes shut tight.

Then, silence.

Hesitantly, he parted one eyelid. There was no ring of beady eyes and bared teeth around them. There was no encroaching mist or desolate soil. Instead, the familiar walls of their small hut enclosed them.

What happened? It couldn't have all just been a terrible nightmare, could it?

Blinking in awe, he was suddenly aware he was on the floor, still cradling Maia. No, if it was indeed a nightmare, then why wasn't he in his bed? Why wasn't she in hers? He didn't want to move or let go of her, for fear that they were still on the island, and he had retreated inside his own head as a last refuge, dreaming of a better place to ease him gently into his own grave.

He forced himself to steady his breathing and focus. Had they somehow teleported away? Impossible. Without the assistance of -

"Gol?"

Gol's gaze dropped to see his sister's half-lidded eyes looking back up at him.

"Maia!" he exclaimed, crushing her against his chest in a tight hug. Her eyes widened and she let out a squeak of pain. He immediately loosened his hold, looking down at her stomach with a frown. "Sorry."

For the moment, it didn't matter how they had escaped. He needed to deal with her bleeding first and foremost. The Dark Eco infection needed to be treated as well, before it causes any serious harm.

A grunt escaped his lips as he finally stood, scooping Maia up. The floorboards creaked under him as he staggered into their bedroom. Through their only window, the late afternoon light poured in, painting the room in deep orange hues. Outside, he could faintly hear villagers milling about in the valley below.

Maia seemed too distracted to care about what Gol was doing. Her eyes darted around the room, a crease forming between her brows.

"I'll return with some Green Eco," Gol said, carefully placing her down on her bed. He then grabbed her hands and secured them over her stomach, applying some force as he did. It would slow the bleeding, but the Dark Eco within her would not be so easily stayed. Extracting the Eco from her would be too dangerous, as it would risk tearing her insides apart. It had to be neutralised with Green Eco.

When he went to straighten up, she grabbed him by the collar. "How… how did we..?"

"I don't know," he replied softly.

She let go of him and winced. Her hands found their way back to her stomach.

He raced out of the room to find some Green Eco. As a Sage of a somewhat unpredictable substance, he'd have been a fool not to have some of its counteractant nearby in the event of an experiment gone wrong. Thankfully, he had some spare, stored in a canister amongst the absent empties.

While he prepped the Eco, he stared with a sinking heart at the slew of torn skin beneath her fingers.

This was all his fault.

xxx

Many thoughts pursued Gol into the night. The only one that didn't completely eat away at him, however, was the thought of teleporting again.

How had he done it?

He tried in vain to focus on that sole thought as he watched over Maia's sleeping form. Bars of moonlight came in through the window, highlighting the steady rise and fall of her chest. With each movement, barely audible breaths escaped her lips. It was a comforting sight, as the past couple of hours had been spent fighting blackened veins that threatened to creep up into her heart. The infection had finally been eradicated after multiple Green Eco treatments, and now, here Gol sat, victorious, but without any more Eco to treat himself. It was a worthwhile sacrifice.

His eyes burned and his body ached, but he had no urge to move from her bedside. He'd stay here and take care of her forever if that was what needed to be done. She was all he had, after all. Not even the earliest of memories could tell him otherwise. There were no memories of their parents, and no memories of a caregiver or a guardian. People entered and left their lives - more frequently now than back when they were younger - but when he boiled it down, it was just the two of them, left to fend for themselves. It was just the two of them against the world.

Groggily, he finally removed his kidney belt. Green Eco or not, he still had to deal with his own wounds. Shrugging off his coat, he examined first the grazes, then the bone-shaped bruise across his abdomen. He felt along his broad back for the puncture wounds, and his hands met with a sticky wetness. It would make quite the addition to the collection of burn scars that peppered his arms. But what was a bruise and three little puncture marks compared to the large scar that would be forever embedded in Maia's stomach? A scar to go with the stains. Perhaps it would remind her that stains weren't so bad. For him, however, it would be a constant reminder of an image that would haunt him for the rest of his life: her spilling out ribbons of crimson.

xxx

Sewing up the holes in his jacket didn't keep away the invading thoughts, but at least it kept him physically occupied. When there was nothing left to be done, he noticed how unfocused the room was to him. How long had he been awake for? He glanced over to Maia, still fast asleep. A moment's rest wouldn't do him any harm. If she needed him, she'd wake him.

Gol slumped lower on the chair, kicking his legs out and crossing his arms. He let the slow rhythm of his breathing lead him into sleep.

When he opened his eyes, darkness surrounded him, until it didn't. Somehow, it had lightened to a grey, and thickened. With its newly gained volume, it swirled aimlessly in front of Gol, just like…

Fog.

Where was he..?

A wet crunching came from somewhere ahead, carried by the breeze that stirred the fog. Gol stood still, listening intently. What in Precursor's name was that? Then, he heard something that made his blood curdle. Slurping. He tried to put distance between himself and whatever foul thing was happening from behind the cover of grey, but found that his legs were like thin tree trunks, rooted and trembling. Looking down, Gol realised his predicament: he was waist deep in mud.

The drum of his heart picked up. No… He couldn't be back here… He couldn't. They'd escaped, didn't they..?

The brown sludge was creeping, moving at an incredible pace. From the point at which he'd discovered he was in mud to now, it had already reached his chest. He'd be swallowing it soon enough. Before he could even begin to dwell on that, however, the fog in front of him dropped like a sheet. At the edge of the mud pit, he spotted a body slumped on its side. A hand dangled, just grazing the brown surface below.

It was Maia.

Through crimson strands of hair that were caked across her face, he could see her eyes - wide, pleading, staring at him. No, they hadn't escaped. He'd failed her.

He noticed that her body was jerking violently. A shadow stooped low over her, and with dawning horror, he realised it was feasting.

Gol opened his mouth to scream, but the mud muzzled him as it gushed down into his throat.

The shadow looked up; its blazing yellow eyes swallowed him whole.

Gol's eyes flew open, and he almost stumbled off of his chair. His heart was close to bursting out of his chest as he tried to control his erratic breathing. Whipping his head to the side, he found Maia's form underneath the blankets of her bed. They were home. They were safe.

A steady breath was allowed to pass his chattering teeth. The rise and fall of Maia's chest had shallowed somewhat, but her eyes remained closed. Had he woken her with his outburst? He wiped away the pinheads of sweat across his forehead and watched her for a moment. When he was sure she was still asleep, he sighed, and collected himself.

So sleep wasn't an option. Of course it wasn't. There had to be a price to pay for narrowly avoiding death. He knew it wasn't the last time he'd see that… that _thing_. A shudder went down his spine as its shape took hold in his mind's eye once more. He had to keep occupying himself - no, distracting himself so he wouldn't have to see that again. Looking around the room, there wasn't really much else to do. No chores needed to be done. Recreational time didn't appeal to him either. He'd read every book in the hut three times now.

The answer came easily enough; it was the one thing that was his saving grace in all this: their escape from Misty Island. If he focused all of his efforts in finding out how they did it, then maybe then he'd be allowed to rest peacefully.

With that decided, Gol leaned down to plant a soft kiss on Maia's forehead. He hovered, studying her calm features. To ward off the bitter aftertaste of the dream, he committed it to memory, then left the bedroom.

Dawn was nearing. With the windows and open doorway lighting the way, he made out three metal canisters in the far corner of the main room. He strode over and snatched up the one that was filled with Dark Eco. Then, kneeling down with both hands over the opened lid, he closed his eyes and willed the Eco to flow into him. As usual, the process dragged. He figured he had to absorb a lot more of it to compensate for the cluster's diluted nature and to account for his body's slow ejection of it. There had to be a way to keep it in his body… Gol shook his head. That was a problem for later. Right now, all effort had to be poured into this one act. If he could recreate his escape, then perhaps there was a slight chance he could forgive himself for not being a better Sage and protecting Maia… a very slight chance.

The canister was half empty when Gol pulled away. He rested his hands on his thighs and let his mind race. His theory was that he had to clearly picture where he needed to be. The Eco - that was now gradually leaving him - would take care of the rest. That's what had happened on Misty Island. At least, that's what he remembered.

Gol sucked in a deep breath and pictured the small bedroom. He then mentally placed himself at Maia's bedside. That's where he needed to be right now. The image drifted through his mind for what seemed like an age, and yet, silence still permeated. Gol forced his sleep-laden eyes open. To his dismay, the main room greeted him.

Where was that thunderous crack? Or was that not part of the teleportation process? Had he not absorbed enough Eco? On Misty Island, he couldn't recall how much he'd actually taken. Regardless, this was by far the most Eco he had ever dared to absorb. It should have been enough. Was he not picturing the room correctly? Was fidelity a factor in this? No, it couldn't be that either. Being somewhat of a recluse, he knew the room inside and out. So what was it? As much as it pained him to do so, he replayed the events of Misty Island in his mind. The only difference that he could identify was that he was not in any immediate danger right now. Surely that wasn't it? How would that even be determined? What level of danger was appropriate enough to unlock the ability? No, maybe it really was the amount of Eco he'd absorbed…

Gol made a noise somewhere between a groan and a cry.

What was the point of all this? He couldn't even channel Dark Eco properly! What chance was there in the stars aligning again?

Rubbing his eyes, he went to stand. In his periphery, a shadow darted across the floor. Gol spun around. The abruptness of his movement sent him into a dizzy spell, and he stumbled over his own feet. Landing hard on his backside, he could see more shadows appear. They danced around him. One snaked its way across the ceiling. Peeling away from the wooden boards, the shadow drooped down like wumpbee wax. Elongated blobs merged together as they twirled, until a discernible shape materialised just above Gol's frozen form. Orbs of yellow blinked mere inches from his face.

It was that thing from his dreams.

Images cascaded in its wake: Maia's widened eyes, the jerking of her body…

Maia! What if the shadows were swarming her in the bedroom as well? What if they were some form of undocumented Lurker? She was alone and bedridden…

Defenceless.

No, not again. He had to get to her before -

A thunderous crack exploded in his ears. It was as if ice itself coursed through his veins. Every molecule of his being vibrated as a cloudy column of purple engulfed him, piercing through the shadowy figure directly above until there was nothing left. Then, the column dropped.

Gol felt his jaw drop.

He was in the bedroom.

Keeping his elation at bay for the moment, he peered around. The dark corners of the room were still.

His body visibly loosened. Thank the Precursors.

A dull ringing - an aftershock of the explosion - almost concealed his name being called. He turned to the source.

Maia was slouched against the bedhead, mouth agape and clutching her stomach.

xxx

Food. He needed food. His rumbling stomach was a reminder that he hadn't eaten since departing for Misty Island. Maia hadn't either. So when the village came to life at the break of dawn, Gol hurried down to the fisherman's stall. As he went, Gol was acutely aware that he was being watched. The feeling was overwhelming, but he reminded himself that these watchful eyes weren't yellow. These eyes also didn't accompany rotting gums and teeth seeking flesh to tear into.

A weary smile formed on his lips. The villagers were probably gawking at his haggard appearance again.

From the fisherman's wary glance as Gol approached, he gathered the word 'haggard' was a severe understatement. Before he could make any mention of it, the fisherman took a step back. "You best be moving on now," he said with a quiver in his voice. "That travelling merchant told us what you tried to do to his boy."

Gol stopped dead in his tracks. "I beg your pardon?"

"You tried to kidnap that poor boy," a smaller voice chimed in. Gol twisted around to see an old lady emerge from behind the stall.

"What? That's absurd!" Gol exclaimed. A pair of villagers gravitated towards the unfolding scene.

"Then why was he alone in your hut?"

"The boy's father said your intent was to hurt him."

Gol scoffed, addressing the newcomers. "That's not true! My intentions were innocent. I only wanted to -"

"How can you speak of innocence when you dabble in that evil Eco?"

"It's not evil!" Gol countered.

"We're getting fed up with all this shady business, Acheron."

"And that woman you call a sister? What of her? Where is she? Plotting something I presume."

"Please, there's been a terrible misunderstanding," Gol said. His hands raised in a calming gesture, but the tremble that ran through them suggested anything but.

"Misunderstanding!?"

"Look at him! That's the look of a guilty man."

Murmurs morphed into cries as more people gathered around. Their normally cautious looks were now twisted with anger. But regardless of how riled up they were, Gol still was given a wide berth.

They were still wary of him.

This was the last thing he needed right now.

Before the haze that was his mind could fully process what he was doing, a flicker of Dark Eco danced across his open palm. It was brief, but it was enough. Silence fell, punctuated by a couple of gasps. The villagers stirred, and Gol spied a gap forming. With the river in his sights, he ran for it. As he slipped past, he muttered a quick apology.

Keeping to the bank, his feet barely touched the soft earth as he barrelled towards the hut. When he neared the cave, he stopped. Maia sat with a hunch on the ledge, cradling her stomach and letting her legs dangle in the air. She wore a loose, long tunic, and her welder's goggles were absent, allowing her untied hair to fall unencumbered around her face. Never had she gone without her goggles, or her midriff threads for that matter. What perturbed Gol the most, however, were her eyes. They were always focused; nothing escaped her sights. Well, now nothing except for him.

She didn't even appear to notice his approach.

"Maia?" he called. No reply. He started again, this time keeping a more brisk pace while scaling up the rocky pathway to not rouse any alarm. When he came up to her right side, she almost jumped out of her own skin.

"Are you alright?" Gol asked, steadying his breathing and throwing a look down at the river. "Why are you out here and not in bed resting?"

Blinking, a familiar frown accompanied her sullen features. She angled her head slightly toward him, deliberate in keeping the left side of her face out of view.

"I've had enough rest," Maia grumbled.

Movement below caught the twins' attention. A couple of the villagers had emerged from behind a nearby hut. As soon as they'd come under Maia's gaze however, they froze. She scowled, watching them scramble. A question then began to form on her lips as she gave Gol her full attention, but the words never came to fruition. Gol had dropped to his knees, hands reaching to brush away the hair from her face. With a growl, she swatted him away.

"Let me see," Gol pleaded to her. From behind a lock of hair, a faded purple blotch peeked out. The bruise should have disappeared by now. Surely he'd used enough Green Eco…

"Just leave it. It will go on its own."

Gol grimaced; there wasn't any more Eco to spare. He cursed inwardly. Now he'd have to see Samos again. But what to say to him? He reached out again. "Maia, if it's not healed properly -"

"Enough!" She deflected his hand and drew her legs back in to stand. Knowing her, she'd find some place to hide out, and then they'd be back to not seeing each other during the day. Before Misty Island, it didn't seem to bother him too much. Having her around while he did consultations for the villagers was painful at best. But now… The idea of them being apart for so long was ludicrous. He also couldn't have her wandering through the village while its residents were still riled up.

It wouldn't end well… for them.

Sighing, Gol grabbed Maia's shoulder, stopping her ascent. "Fine," he said evenly as he stood. "Let me know if you need anything. I'll be inside." As he went to walk, he added: "Tell me if you see any more villagers heading our way."

He didn't wait for a reply, and made his way to the main room. If she wanted him out of her hair, then he supposed he'd better get a move on. Glancing back through the doorway, a pang hit his chest. Her face was buried in her hands.

xxx

The days seemed to bleed into one another. After the recreation of teleportation, time had rather lost most of its meaning for Gol. Distance was measured with time, and time gauged from the celestial bodies in the skies above. For instance, from sunrise to sunset was how long it took to get from Steephead Village to Volcanic Crater by foot. Utilising the teleporter gates that were maintained by the Sages significantly reduced this time. But travellers were anchored around those fixed points. They still had to travel to and from them in order to get to their destinations. What Gol had accomplished destroyed any notion of that. Distance was now completely irrelevant, and by extension, so was time.

And it was all thanks to Dark Eco.

What else was possible with it? Dozens of new ideas and experiments had somehow filtered into his weary mind, but how could he pursue any of them when their Dark Eco supply was limited? It would entail weeks of searching the mainland before they happened upon even a slither again. On the other hand… there was the place that had almost wiped out the last of the Acheron bloodline. The place that caused him grief whenever he closed his eyes. If he wanted the Eco solely for those experiments and ideas, then he'd happily stick with the agonising search.

But he didn't. For the first time in his life, the pursuit of knowledge wasn't the force that drove him. His mind was made up; he would travel back to that horrid place, and he would get his hands on that Eco, because he needed it like he needed air to breathe. Strength was to be gained, not knowledge. With such an amount of Eco, he could become more than the pathetic Sage he was. Most importantly, he could finally have the means to keep Maia safe.

Gol carried himself over to the doorway, knowing he would find Maia sitting out on the ledge of their little cave. Reluctantly, he'd explained to her the situation with the merchant and his young boy, and the villagers' subsequent reaction to it, when she was comfortable enough with his company again. She hardly batted an eye at his troubling words. After that, most of her time was spent out by the cave entrance. But whether it was her way of keeping watch or sulking remained to be determined.

His heavy footfalls alerted her to his presence, but her gaze remained fixed to the village below. He never thought he'd admit it, but over the past couple of days, he missed hearing her talk - even if it was mostly teasing and snark. He longed for her to irritate him about something - just to know that there was still life in that shell of hers. Dare he say it, but it felt like she truly did die on Misty Island. He supposed that he did as well, being foolish enough to threaten the villagers after their collective show of bravado. What was he even thinking? Nothing. He wasn't thinking at all, he reminded himself. Now, he was nothing but a spectre amongst the village. The two of them were both ghosts, but it seemed that only one of them was still hungry.

Gol swallowed thickly, then cleared his throat. "I'm going back to Misty Island."

Maia straightened up.

"And I'm going alone," he added quickly. "I need that -"

On her feet and already halfway towards him, Gol's jaw clamped shut. He found himself backpedalling to the hut. When he wanted to see life returned to her, this was not what he had in mind. She lunged before he could reach safety, managing to grab fistfuls of his jacket.

After a moment, she found her voice. "Tell me you're not serious, brother?"

"I am."

Her grip loosened. "Just let it go."

Let it go? He would have burst out laughing had the situation not been so dire. On top of all this moping about, he couldn't see a future where Maia wasn't outside that Precursor citadel, bleary-eyed as she continued her fruitless search for a door. A door! She needed to take her own advice.

"I can't… That Eco will make me stronger."

Maia's eyes searched his as she thought for a moment. Sometimes she was like one of the books on their shelf. He could tell she was coming to a decision all from the way her mouth set – and it would be a decision that he wouldn't like.

Her hands finally fell from his jacket. "Fine then. I'm coming with you. No distractions this time."

Eyes like empty plates. Crimson puddles lapping at pale skin. A dark figure looming over her -

"Don't be absurd. I'm not letting you near that island ever again," said Gol with a wave of his hand.

Maia gritted her teeth, voice dropping dangerously low. "Since when do you get to decide what I can and can't do?"

"Since when you almost..." Gol shook his head. "This is something I must do alone."

He backed away from her and went over to what was left of the canisters.

"On that island, you couldn't even hold a single wisp of Dark Eco in your palms." Gol deflated at her words, but kept walking. "You said it yourself: you're weak. So what makes you think you can survive there on your own?" Maia chuckled darkly. "You wouldn't last a second without me, because you're useless. Completely and utterly useless. You always have been - and you're supposed to be the Sage of Dark Eco! Maybe -"

The rest of the sentence died in her mouth. Her glaring eyes extinguished when Gol turned back around. There was a tremble in his lower lip.

She was right, of course. A Sage was one that had mastered their respective Eco, and Gol knew deep down that he was no Sage. He was indeed useless. But he would change all of that upon returning with the concentrated Eco.

Gol crouched down. A fire burned within him as the need to leave only grew stronger. He grabbed the last canister of Dark Eco.

Tentative footsteps started up.

"Don't even think about it," Gol managed through his tightening throat. The footsteps stopped. If she tried to latch onto him when he teleported…

With unsteady hands, he unscrewed the lid. Maia hovered nearby silently, watching as he absorbed the last of their Dark Eco supply.

Gol closed his eyes. Hopefully, it was enough.

No creak of floorboards followed. He could still feel her gaze on him.

Good.

He tried to ease his restless mind. His focus had to be on those puddles of liquid Dark Eco by the water, and nothing else. He imagined that pulling sensation again, as if it was the only thing keeping him afloat in a sea of turmoil.

The familiar crackling rang in his ears, and he opened his eyes to see the barren island form lazily around him. His mouth parted in disbelief; it was surprisingly a lot easier this time. His elation fell away, however, when beady, yellow eyes flashed in his mind. Gol peered around, frozen to the spot, examining every nook and cranny for any sign of those dreaded monsters. They had snuck up effortlessly last time, after all.

He then cast his gaze downward, where the puddles of Eco waited. But something in his periphery made his heart drop. There, still moored to a rock jutting out of the water, was the boat they had arrived on, along with the numerous empty canisters they'd brought. The poor fisherman who had lent it to them would certainly be wondering what had happened. How many days had it been now?

Gol grimaced; it would be unkind not to return the boat after he was finished here.

xxx

With nothing but the flickering flame of a candle to provide light, Gol carefully poured out the concentrated Dark Eco into a thin metal tube. It sizzled as it hit the surface. Once it was filled a quarter of the way, Gol stopped and sealed the canister. On his desk laid a leather glove that stretched up to the elbow. Two large loops were sewn in: one at the wrist and one just before the crook of the elbow. With great care, Gol threaded the tube into the loops. When he'd put the glove on, the tube would run along the outer part of his forearm. A thin clear tube was then attached to the wrist-end of the metal tube, and threaded through smaller holes along the glove until it poked up at the elbow. A tube that was shorter, but otherwise identical, was fixed to the other end of the metal tube. Needles dangled from the free ends of both of these clear tubes.

Slipping it on his right hand and tightening the buckles, he tested the weight. Only a slight tug on his shoulder. Irritable, but manageable. He'd get used to it… eventually.

Now for the difficult part.

He had to ready his upper arm for insertion. The two clear tubes would act as transferrers: one to send Eco directly into his veins where it would be more cleanly absorbed, and the other to provide an easy excretion point via his artery. By collecting and reusing the rejected Eco, there would be a constant flow of Eco running through him. It would only be a small amount, but if his body became accustomed to it – and he truly hoped it did – then he would increase the dosage gradually.

Shallow breaths could only be taken. If he took any deeper of a breath, he might miss or damage his vein.

The tiny flame of the candle started to dance erratically, casting fleeting streaks of light over the workbench. Gol groaned. The lighting certainly wasn't ideal for what he was doing. At all. But this couldn't wait until morning. When the candle settled, he rested his right arm on the bench, and positioned the needle over a vein in his bicep.

As the sharp end neared skin, a hand latched onto his wrist, stopping its descent. He almost dropped the needle.

"What are you doing?" Maia asked. Her voice was steady, but her eyes had betrayed her panic.

"I'm sorry, did I wake you?"

"What. Are. You. Doing?" she repeated, now in a low hiss.

So that's how it was going to be. "What does it look like?"

"It looks," Maia began, staring into his bloodshot eyes, "like you're going to hurt yourself."

"There may be pain at first," Gol replied, gently grasping her wrist with his gloved hand, "but this device will prove to be a much more efficient way of channelling Eco."

Her eyes cut between the glove and the needle she had stopped. "By forcing it into your body? Are you sure all that lack of sleep and teleporting hasn't muddled your brain?"

Of course she'd be bitter about his newly learned ability. All she could do was watch with growing irritation as he teleported back and forth between Misty Island and their hut. He still hadn't taught her how to do it yet.

Gol gave a more forceful tug at her wrist, but it didn't budge. "It's not 'forcing' it."

He dove into an explanation of how the device worked, and her glare gradually faded away. When he finished, she loosened her grip, and allowed Gol to remove her hand from his wrist. "Are you sure about this?"

"Yes," he said, a little too quickly.

Maia waited until Gol let go of the needle, before letting her shoulders relax. She leaned against the table, and a couple of silent minutes passed between them.

"It's a little flimsy. I think I'll pass on having one of my own," she finally said, feigning a look of disgust, then shifting to that smirk he hadn't seen in quite a while. The comment was a dig at his craftsmanship, but it still made his heart leap.

Gol snorted, concentrating on taking off the glove in order to hide his smile. "Why would you need one?"

"Gol?"

He looked up and met soft eyes.

"I… I'm sorry for what I said earlier. About you being weak and useless. It was cruel, and I didn't mean it." She rubbed her arms. "I - I was just… angry at what happened to us. At how helpless we were."

Confusion spread across Gol's features, but not because of the apology. He'd received many short but sincere apologies from her over the years, but opening up to him never followed. She was always the tight-lipped one whenever feelings became involved, and preferred to just sit and stew until it was forgotten.

"It's okay. You have every right to be angry."

"But not at you."

He snatched up her hands and shook them. "Yes, at me. I couldn't help you when you needed me to." His voice broke as he forced the words out. "I couldn't even protect you! What kind of brother am I if I can't protect my own sister?"

"So far, we've been doing well enough with me looking after the both of us. You don't need to fret over nothing," she reassured him, then pushed off the bench, breaking contact.

"It's not 'nothing'." He stood up and followed her as she made her way to the bedroom. "What happened to us on Misty Island is bound to repeat itself, and next time we won't be so fortunate."

Maia sighed, pausing at the door.

"So I need to consume more Eco," Gol continued, balling his fists. "I need to become stronger - for both our sakes."

"We both need to be stronger," Maia said, and was rewarded with a flabbergasted look from Gol. "But for now, what I think what you really need is rest. I'll find a safer way of inserting those tubes into your arm tomorrow."

With that, she opened the door and beckoned for him to follow her into the dark room.

Gol glanced at the window. It was well into the early hours of the morning now. Even though he had time at his whim, it still managed to escape him. Staying up was becoming a bad habit, but it was preferable to the alternative…

"Whenever I close my eyes, I see fog… and shadows," he began. Maia's brows raised slightly. "They twist into monsters, and you're there, and they…"

He couldn't bring himself to finish that trail of thought.

Maia brought a hand to the side of her face and unconsciously rubbed her faded bruise. "We can move the beds together - just like when we were children," she said. "Will that help at all?"

Gol looked at her, then at the shadows that stretched across the floor.

"Come on." She gestured again.

He went back to his table to blow out the candle, then let her lead the way into the dark.


End file.
